Canada's Revenge
by Outakurebecca
Summary: England grants Canada a wish, and Canada uses it to be noticed. America, however, gets the bad end of the deal. AmeCan
1. Chapter 1

"America!" England fumed. "You were late to the meeting again today! And buying hamburgers is not a valid excuse!"

"Um," the nation being chastised grimaced, "I'm Canada."

"Oh," England got on his tip toes to inspect the blonde nation. "I suppose you really aren't America. Sorry about that, chap."

"It's not a big deal," Canada whispered. Truthfully he was surprised that England had seen him at all.

England felt throughly embarrassed. "Let me make it up to you somehow, ah-"

"Canada."

"Right, Canada," England continued. "How 'bout a wish, then?"

Canada tilted his head in confusion. "A wish?" Usually people just bought lunch for someone they owed a favor to, what was this about a wish?

England grinned. "I'm very skilled with magic, you see-"

"Hopefully better at it than cooking," Canada cringed.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing," Canada whispered.

England carried on, "So I could grant a wish for you. Anything you wouldn't be able to get by other means. Within the law, of course."

"Thank you, but there really isn't anything like that that I want," Canada explained.

"Oh, come now," England tut-tutted, putting one arm around Canada in a gentlemanly way. "Is there anyone you want to get closer to... romantically?"

Canada's thoughts immediately turned to America. "No," he said flatly.

England looked disappointed. Love charms were his favorite. "Alright," he sighed. "What do you want?"

Seeing England wouldn't give up, Canada pondered a bit more. What did he want? It would be nice if people would notice him. And not confuse him for that asshole of the world America when they did. Suddenly he knew exactly what he wanted. He explained his wish to England.

"Hmm, I suppose I could arrange that," England agreed. "Could I get your address to mail the charm to you when it's done, ah-?"

"Canada."

"Right-o. Canada."

Canada wrote down the address of his nation's capital and his name, which England was very grateful to have. He also scribbled down the details of the request just in case his name wasn't the only thing the Englishman wouldn't remember.

The two men said their farewells and went back to their respective hotel rooms. Well, England might have been dragged into a certain Frenchman's room on the way, but they eventually ended up in their own rooms.

Canada shut the door softly behind him. His polar bear, Kumajirou, glanced briefly away from the documentary he was watching on Discovery channel.

"Guess what, Kumajino!" Canada whispered with a faint hint of excitement. "I'm going to get noticed soon!"

"Who're you?" Kumajirou asked, turning back to his program.

"I'm Canada," Canada said dejectedly.


	2. Chapter 2

It always started as a pleasant dream, with Chibi America staring at him with his wide, innocent blue eyes. It was back in his colonial days, before the either of them wore glasses.

"Whoa! You look like me!" America shouted incredulously. "You must be at least half as cool, right bro?"

Chibi Canada blinked at the loud boy. He looked around to see who he could be talking to. Seeing no one, he pointed hesitantly a himself. "Me?" he asked.

"Duh," Chibi America said.

Canada fidgeted. "I wouldn't be so sure..." he trailed off.

America snorted in an attempt to be like an adult, but it just made his nose run. He quickly whipped it away with the ruffled white sleeve of his gown.

"Dude," he said, unfazed. "I just met you and I'm already convinced you've easily got 25% of my amazing-ness. Minimum."

The tilt of his head and chubby-faced frown made it apparent that Canada didn't get it.

America clarified, "That's a lot of amazing, bro."

"Bro?" Canada asked.

"Yeah," America explained. "We're totally tight now. I'm America, by the way."

"Canada."

"Sup, Canadia!" America went for a high-five, but Canada wasn't quick enough, so he kinda just got a hand to the face. It was the start of a marvelous friendship.

As if.

"Now that we're bros," America continued. "I'm gonna tell you a secret."

"A secret?" Canada whispered. He had never shared a secret before.

"Yeah, a secret. Try to keep up, bro," he paced around importantly like he had learned to do from Engwand. "This secret is so secret that I haven't told anyone, and by anyone, I mean anyone!" America stopped to make sure The other young nation was following. He took his speechlessness for amazement and resumed his secret-telling.

"Alright, here goes," America inhaled deeply, puffing out his cheeks. "You listening, Canadia?"

"Yes, America," Canada replied. No one had ever remember his name twice before, and in a row too! Canada didn't even mind that he was pronouncing it wrong.

"I said," America spoke more insistently. "You listening, Canadia?"

"Yes!" Canada whispered louder. "I'm listening, America!"

Suddenly the America he was looking at wasn't chibi anymore. He was a good head or two taller and was wearing cowboy getup.

"Canadia!" he shouted.

"I'm listening!" Canada told him again.

Now America was older still. "Canadia!" he said again.

Canada tried to speak, to call out, but his tiny voice couldn't reach all the way up to America. Canada wasn't growing in his dream. America had moved on without him.

Other voices could be heard, laughing and joking. America turned away from little Canada to see where they were coming from. He went to go check it out, running with long, grown-up legs that Canada couldn't hope to keep up with. When he tried, he just fell down.

When America was out of sight, Canada fell another time. He didn't get up, but sat in the tall grass, sniffling. The sound of America yelling his name echoed, though America himself was impossibly far away.

"Canadia!" Bang, bang, bang.

Canada rolled over and groaned.

"You listening, Canadia?" Bang, bang, bang.

An older, more awake Canada sat up groggily and rubbed his eyes. His nightmare had disoriented him.

"I know you're in there!" America banged on the door again. "Let me in, bro!"

Canada sighed. The hotel clock read 2:21 AM. What could America want at such an absurd hour?

"Dude, you must be awake by now!" America pestered him.

Canada stumbled over to open the door. "What do you want, America?" he accused, pulling back the door harder than he should have.

"You know about stuff, right?" America asked without making any sense. He strolled past Canada into the room despite his efforts to keep America out.

"It depends on what stuff, America..."

"Well, being the hero," Canada rolled his eyes at America's self-proclaimed title. "I need to do this thing-"

"What is it, America?" Canada asked again. "Can't it wait till morning?"

"No way!" America protested. "I need to tie this tie now."

Canada stopped. A tie? America was harassing him so early in the morning for a tie?

"You don't know how?" Canada inquired. "You were wearing one yesterday!"

"I lost my cheat sheet," America shrugged. "But that doesn't matter cuz you're a for realz expert at this stuff. You wouldn't leave a bro hanging, would yah?"

What Canada really wanted to do was to use that tie to pull a Norway and choke some manners into the idiot. Then he remembered his deal with England and calmed himself with the knowledge that revenge would come in time.

"Do you have one with you?"

"Huh?" America grunted.

"A tie," Canada sighed. "Did you bring a tie with you?"

"Oh, of course!" America laughed. He pulled an overly patriotic tie from a pocket of his bomber jacket. Canada was just glad it didn't play music or light up or anything else obnoxious.

Canada smoothed the tie once with his hands and reached over America's head to drape it around his neck. He smugly noted that, outside the dream world, he was level with America in height at least. He also realized that the only light in the room was what made it through the doorway from the hall.

"Dude," America tapped on Canada's forehead lightly with his knuckles. "Did you forget how to do it already?"

"N-no, no," Canada assured him. "I just... need my glasses. Hold on." He retrieved them from his bedside table. Placing them on the bridge of his nose made America come into focus.

"Start with the wide end on the right, like this," Canada whispered, picking up both ends of the tie around America's neck. "Then cross the wide end across like this, then back this way-"

"Oh! I remember this part!" America gave an abrupt nod, causing the tie to fall out of Canada's hands and undo their progress thus far. America grinned apologetically.

Undeterred, the northern nation redid the steps. He stood closer to America, to have him on a shorter reign, he told himself.

At last, the tie was completed.

"Thanks for helping me tie the knot, bro," America smiled.

Canada felt his face get warm. America could be so stupid sometimes.

Ignoring his comment Canada asked, "What are you going to do now, sleep in you tie?"

"I'm going to the meeting, aren't you?" America smiled brightly.

Canada shook his head. "America, it's nearly three in the morning. Our next meeting isn't until ten."

America looked genuinely shocked. "But Denmark said-"

"He was probably drunk or messing with you," Canada interrupted. It was just like America to fall for something like this, but why he have to get dragged into it?

"Ah, shoot," America said. "Well that's embarrassing."

You don't look embarrassed at all, Canada thought. At least pretend you're sorry for waking me up!

"Since we're up anyway," America continued, oblivious to Canada's angry thoughts being hurled at him like throwing knives. "Let's go do something!"

"What?" Canada squeaked. "Right now?"

"Yeah, it'll be like a bro date," America explained. Without waiting for an answer, he pulled the sputtering nation out the door. Canada tripped and stumbled, but followed close behind.


	3. Chapter 3

"America!" Canada whispered. "Where are we going?" He was in more or less his pajamas, and was acutely aware of the cold.

"Don't sweat it, bro!" America called over his shoulder. He wasn't cold, with his stupid bomber jacket and his stupid gloves. Those stupid gloves that warmed one of Canada's hands as he was dragged down the street.

"You don't know where we're going, do you?" Canada sighed.

"Ouch! Where's the trust?" Despite his words, America didn't sound fazed at all. "The hero always has a plan!" He glanced around without breaking the pace, obviously lost already.

The world meeting was being held in Italy for the current session. This meant that Italy frolicked about while Germany had the general run of things. Italy had, however, chosen the location. It wasn't a big, well-know or particularly tourist-y city. Why Italy had chosen it was beyond anyone else's comprehension.

The street was bare save a dappling of street lamps and a lonely taxi. Not like New York at all, America noted. A brightly colored window sign caught his eye.

"Let's do that!" America pointed excitedly to a darkened building.

"We can't," Canada explained. "They're closed."

"Whaaat!" America exclaimed in disbelief. "Arcades can't close! PacMan never sleeps!"

Canada smiled in spite of himself. "Come on," he said, "I know something we can do." He picked up his pace, but didn't drop America's hand. He needed it to lead him, after all.

Walking beside America was much more pleasant than walking behind him. This way, Canada could see his face when he talked and his smile when he laughed. Not like he was looking or anything.

The two stopped at a 24 hour coffee shop to warm up. Canada protested, he was self conscious about his not-so-presentable attire. America just laughed it off and ordered two supper-sized cups of the sugary-est, most caffeinated drink available.

The girl at the counter, who couldn't have been long out of high school, was happy to finally have customers. She looked a bit too happy to see America, Canada noticed. Canada was even more appalled when America went along with it, leaning across the counter to whisper in the girl's ear.

Do either of them remember that I'm here? Canada sulked.

The coffee girl giggled and nodded when America had finished, then scampered to the back room to prepare their orders. A heavy silence permeated the air around Canada, starkly contrasting the obnoxiously bright aura of America. It wouldn't have seemed out of place for cartoon flowers to float and spin around him.

The coffee girl reappeared clutching two steaming cups. While she rang them up, Canada realized he had left his wallet in the hotel room.

"No prob, bro!" America assured him. "I got your back."

A grumpy Canada was the first to leave. America followed after returning a good-bye wave to the coffee girl.

This time it was America who was struggling to keep up. "Wait up, Canadia!" he insisted, lengthening his stride. When he caught up, he offered Canada one of the drinks, which was accepted and begrudgingly sipped.

Canada's eyes widened. Was that... maple in his coffee? America broke into a smile that was impossibly wide.

"I didn't know this was on the menu," Canada said with another greedy gulp, his irritation at the other nation temporarily forgotten.

"It's not, I asked for it special," America winked.

Canada blushed. He wanted to say thank you, but decided against it. "D-did you get some?"

"Nah, that's not usually my thing," America informed him, happily slurping his own beverage.

"Oh, I see," Canada said quietly.

Some time passed. The two had gone back to walking side-by-side, but this time Canada kept both hands on his coffee. It was much warmer than America, anyway.

"Here we are," Canada announce-whispered. They were in front of a metal archway that opened onto a grassy park. A smooth, dirt path continued from the sidewalk, circling around until it reconnected with itself or reached the gate on the other side.

"No way!" America shouted. "It's midnight nature exploration time!" He ran clumsily down the path, spilling coffee everywhere.

Canada was rather into camping and nature and the like, so he felt like he should enlighten America that city parks were not exactly the Bear Grills survival type of wilderness. Nor was it midnight. He knew, however, that it was useless, America rarely gave up once he was determined to do something. Manifest Destiny had taught him that much.

Canada calmly observed as America made a running jump for a tree branch, missed it entirely, and smacked into the tree trunk. A tiny, yellow, extremely pissed bird emerged from the shaken tree, chirping angrily like a mother cussing out her child for breaking a window. Parts of the racket sounded almost intelligent; Canada could have sworn some of the cheeps were actually the word 'loser'.

America retreated back to a very amused Canada. "Dude," the adventurous nation confided in the other. "That marshmallow peep just frickin' chewed me out!"

"I'm so proud of you," Canada congratulated him, hiding a smile while pretending to warm his hands.

"Thanks, bro!" America gave a hearty laugh. "Now come and adventure with me!"

"Actually," Canada interrupted. "I was thinking we could watch the sun rise. It is ungodly early-"

"Whoa, that's so Canadian!" America exclaimed. Canada didn't quite know how to take that.

"Well, when half your friends are either moose or polar bears, things can get pretty cray," Canada informed him, using one of America's own ridiculous words.

America laughed and hit Canada playfully on the back. Canada flinched and was thankful that America had already spilled all his coffee, otherwise it would have been all over him now.

"You're awesome, Canadia," America told him honestly. "I don't know why we don't hang more often!" He scratched his head. "I guess when there are other people around I have a hard time finding you. You should wear one of those blinking, light-up arrow-things on your head!"

Canada hoped England's plan was much better than America's.

"Look!" America pointed to the horizon. "I think the show's starting!"

"It's not a movie, America."

"It can be whatever it wants to be! Live the American Dream, y'all!" America punched the air

Canada chuckled. Of all the spontaneous, early morning "bro dates" he'd ever been on, this was the best.

**LoL I had to rewrite this chapter cuz mai iPod stabbed me in the back and deleted my only copy! Curses! It's okay now, y'all. Me made up and everything.**

**Thanks for all the favs/reviews! I make it a personal goal not to be a review whore, I just want you to know that all the ones I've gotten so far make me extreamly happy.**

**I promise the next chapter will get back to the plot. Until then, ja matta!**


	4. Chapter 4

The world meeting was as pointless as ever. Canada was trying to stay awake and having a really difficult time of it. He had only gotten three or four hours of sleep the last night due to America's early morning antics.

Why should he bother to stay awake when no one noticed he was there anyway? It's not like anything important was happening. Unless what the bad touch trio was doing counted as important. Poor Romano.

Canada laid his head down on the conference table. Greece had been asleep as soon as he sat down and no one cared. A little nap couldn't hurt, as long as no one sat on him again.

It was much too noisy for any real sleep. France was hon hon honing at England who was reprimanding America who was calling Russia a commie who was smiling creepily at China.

Canada settled for a half-nap. Soon the din faded into the mindless traffic sounds of Canada's dream. It was a memory of the time Papa France had taken him to meet England. London had been bustling and quite scary for Chibi Canada. Luckily Papa had held his hand to comfort and guide him. It was nice, holding hands. Like with America yesterday. This morning. Ugh.

Canada was startled awake by something soft, fluffy, and light landing on his head. His bolted up like a spring board, launching the thing into the air. Luckily the thing had wings and a cheery attitude.

"Hi there, Canada!" It greeted him in high pitched voice. It was some sort of animal, most closely resembling a chubby rabbit. Its Picachu-shaped ears twitched in a fashion that was sure to put a smile on the grumpiest of faces. Even more enchanting was its mint-green color.

"Who're you?" Canada whispered. The appearance of the strange creature was quite frightful for the timid nation. He could roll his eyes at the zombies that America was so paranoid about, but when an oddity such as this came about, he was absolutely trembling.

"I'm Flying Mint Bunny!" The creature introduced herself. Her wings made a peculiar sound as she fluttered around Canada's head. "Britain sent me!"

"Oh," Canada said, becoming less apprehensive. "Is he here?" He answered his own question with a look around the meeting room; no one was there but himself and Flying Mint Bunny. The meeting must be long over.

"Nope!" Flying Mint Bunny smiled. "I'm on a secret delivery." She swooped up, upside down, and down again like a rampaging Ferris wheel. She landed gracefully on the table next to an unlabeled bottle.

"This is it!" She said, nudging it with her foot. "I hope you don't mind that I drank some, otherwise you wouldn't have been able to see me! There should still be enough for three days."

"Thank you, Flying Mint Bunny!" Canada whispered and gave her a pat on the head. "And please tell England that I appreciate it."

"No problem!" She leaped into the air again.

When it looked like she was leaving, Canada called out quietly, "I hope we can see each other soon!"

Flying Mint Bunny looked uncharacteristically sad. "You won't," she sighed. "I only drank enough for a few hours. The potion increases the drinker's visibility to others, but to do so it has to steal that quality from someone else. England said America would be suspicious if Tony was gone for too long."

Canada was distressed by Flying Mint Bunny's sudden mood change. It didn't seem right that he had three days when she had three hours.

"Wait," Canada told her. She paused at the window.

"I want you to have this," he removed the ink tube from a ballpoint pen, poured some of the potion inside, and replaced the tip and cap. He offered the makeshift canteen of potion to the fluttering creature. "For emergencies, or if you ever want to talk," he explained.

Flying Mint Bunny was overjoyed. "Thanks, Canada! I'll take good care of it."

Canada smiled sheepishly. "It's the least I could do. By the way, I'm impressed you remembered my name, I didn't have to tell you once."

She did another loop-de-loop, giggling happily. "It's easy to be friends with someone who has something in common with you. Let's be the best of friends, Canada!"

The sounded like a marvelous idea.

**YaY for Flying Mint Bunny! I rewatched the clip from the ep she (I assumed it's a girl, I don't know for sure) is in. She's so adorable! What's even better, though, is how excited England is to see her. I must have listened to him say, "Flying Mint Bunny!" like, fifteen times.**

**Something that's been bothering me is the absence of human names in this story. Thoughts? I want to keep it consistent, but there's so much moe to saying 'Mathew' rather than 'Canada'. I don't know.**

**Thanks so much for the continued reads! Please enjoy to the fullest, I dare you ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

The meeting room was especially empty and echo-y after Flying Mint Bunny left. Canada sighed and checked his watch. He must have slept through the lunch break, the other nations would be arriving back soon.

He looked up at the bottle of potion. The liquid was colorless and sealed in the rounded glass bottle with a cork. It looked innocent enough. Would it work?

The cork came off with a pop when Canada twisted it. He sniffed the rim like he would a wine, swirling the bottle as he did so. It smelled sweet, like white chocolate frosting. Canada closed his violet eyes tight, counted to five, and took a swig from the bottle.

It doesn't taste like chocolate at all! Canada cringed. More like toothpaste and ranch dressing. Gross.

Canada was still shuddering over the taste when the meeting room doors were flung open. A peppy Italy bounced in in with a tired German in tow.

"Germany! Germany!" Italy called joyfully, if a bit absentmindedly. "Let's get the room ready before anyone gets here, ve."

Germany sighed, but Canada could see the corners off his lips turn up. "Italy, there's already someone here."

Canada froze. Germany could see him?

"Ve! You're right, Germany!" Italy approached Canada. "What's-a your name? You're a country, right? What's your favorite pasta?"

"Um, a-ah, I-I'm Canada," he whispered, suddenly wishing he had Kumajirou with him to hide behind.

"That's-a wonderful! I'm-a Italy and that's-a Germany."

"Nice to meet you," Canada replied shyly. He already knew both nations, but now that they knew him it was like meeting for the first time.

Italy smiled with his eyes closed. "Sorry that the room isn't ready in time; Germany and I are behind schedule because we stopped to-"

"Eat lunch," Germany interjected quickly, censoring Italy's words.

"-in an ally. It took longer than normal because Germany was really-"

"Hungry."

"-today," Italy finished. Germany busied himself by shuffling papers around in front of his face, unaware that his red-tinged ears were still showing.

"Um," Canada didn't know what to say to that. "I'm happy for you?" Germany's ears blushed harder.  
-

**To SugarMapleWings99: I had no idea that those two had the same voice actress! I will never look at either if them the same way again 0.o**

**I know Hanukkah is already over, but happy holidays, my marvelous otaku. Would it offend you if I wished you a Merry Jewish Christmas? Alright.**


	6. Chapter 6

The meeting was well on its way. The reassembled nations managed to get through one item on the agenda before chaos broke out again. Canada was impressed. Germany, however, had reached his limit.

"Enough!" The intimidating nation yelled above the noise. Everyone in the room stopped their shouting, hitting, or flirting. Even Greece lifted his head.

"If you veren't going to do anyzing but argue, vhy did you even come here?!" Germany scolded them all. "Ve have a responsibility as countries-"

"Ve!" Italy repeated.

"-to do what iz best for our people," Germany said. "So!" He emphasized by pounding a fist on the table, setting off a visible shock wave. "I have a proposal. If any nation does not comply vith zis proposal, Japan vill sic a plague of fangirls upon your country."

Several nations looked pleadingly at Japan. "I will do what I must," he said with duty and honor weighing on his shoulders and heart.

"Team building!" Germany spoke again. "Zat is vat ve need."

"Ve!"

"You vill all compete to be ze first team to find the object Italy, Japan und I have hidden," Germany continued.

"Psst, Germany," Italy whispered. He was quite bad at it, so everyone heard anyway. "We haven't hidden anything!"

"There vill be something hidden by the time you are ready to find it," Germany corrected himself. "Now, I adjourn this meeting and call one for the former Axis powers; so make like Mussolini and get out of here! No, not you Italy!"

A frantic mass exodus ensued. Canada would have been stampeded to death if he hadn't been visible. Amidst the confusion, two sets of hands grabbed his arms from behind and dragged him off. Canada was so perplexed that he didn't attempt to free himself. The flood of countries broke off into tributaries, Canada's leading to a closet.

The flimsy wooden door shut with a thunk and the hands released their hold on the captive nation. Canada maneuvered his way around in the tight space to face his kidnappers, but it was much too dark to identify them.

There was a clink and a single, dangling light bulb flickered on. A set of wide, green eyes stared back at Canada.

"Spain?" Canada gasped.

"How'd you know my name?!" Spain said, honestly taken aback.

"Why did you kidnap me?!" Canada countered.

"Kesesese, initiation of course!" another voice laughed. The albino head of Prussia came to light.

"What?" Canada sputtered. "Aren't you guys a little late?"

"How's that?" Spain tilted his head in a way that would make a certain Italian blush. "Today's the first time either of us have seen you."

"I've been here for centuries!" Canada exclaimed. His voice was amplified in the confined space of the closet.

"If you've really been here that long, the awesome me would know you," Prussia logic-ed. "Right, Birdie?"

"Did you just call me 'Birdie'?" Canada asked hesitantly.

"No no no no," Spain made rapid gestures with his hands. "He has an actual bird with him."

The closet door was swung open by France, with a flourish. It promptly smacked Prussia in the face.

"Sorry I'm late, on hon hon," France twirled a perfect rose between his fingers. "It will be difficult to fit all this sexy in one closet, but I will do my best."

"Hurry up and get in, loser!" Prussia yelled, extremely peeved about the blow to his face (and pride).

"Who are we initiating zis time?" France asked once the door was closed. "It's not Sealand, is it?"

"Mein Got, nein," Prussia denied. "It's this guy. He said his name's Canada or something."

He remembered! Canada thought with glee.

"Canada!" France exclaimed. "We can't initiate Canada! Are you mad? Are you ill? Did you eat some of mon angleterre's cooking? This is my little Canada! He is too cute for initiation 3"

"And I'm not a noob or a freshman!" Canada piped in. Now that his Papa was here, things would get all sorted out.

"No way," Spain protested. "I remember everyone we initiate, and he isn't one of them."

He was right, Canada hadn't gone through any right-of-passage ritual. He must have been skipped due to his invisibility.

_So it can be useful_, Canada observed.

"I say we do it anyway, even if it is a century or two late," Prussia opted with conviction. Spain nodded.

"Eh?!" Canada squeaked.

"A two to three vote, it can't be helped," France shrugged. Even that simple movement of the shoulders managed to be attractive.

"Eh?!" Canada's squeak was more high pitched. He shrunk as far into the corner as he could.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you enjoy it," France assured with a wink.

**LoL that last line was France talking to you, my marvelous readers. （≧∇≦）****Hope you enjoyed your Boxing Day! That's Canadian, right? - A totally American thing to say.**


	7. Chapter 7

The man-purse at Canada's side was very annoying. It was full of supplies he needed to complete his initiation task. The strap looped across his shoulder, leaving enough room for it to bounce as he walked. Some of the supplies were jabbing him in the gut with every step.

_At least it's not... that_, Canada shuddered. _They call themselves the Bad Touch Trio for a reason, after all._

His ears picked up a conversation from around the corner.

_Notgoodnotgoodnotgood_, Canada panicked. He flattened himself against the wall, hoping that the oncoming nations would take a different route. He identified one of the speakers as Japan. This was a good omen; there would be less chance of someone photographing the event if Japan wasn't there.

"Hey, bro!" America greeted him loudly from the opposite direction. Canada's head snapped around. The blue-eyed nation stood slightly slouched with his hands deep in his pockets like he had been standing there a while. How had Canada not seen him?

"America!" Canada squeaked. "What are you doing here? Ah! Hide!" The Canadian used his surprising amount of strength to shove America into the wall, realizing too late what a racket it made.

"Ouch, man! Calm your tits!" America rubbed the back of his head. Canada shushed him.

"Did you hear something?" Japan asked from down the hall. He and his companion were at the T in the hallway, judging by his voice.

"No, I didn't," a feminine voice replied. Miss Hungary, perhaps? "What did it sound like?"

Japan paused, thinking of how to put it politely. He sighed and gave up. "Like someone going at it."

Hungary squealed excitedly. "Where, do you think? Do you have your camera?"

"Hai," Japan confirmed. "My ninja-senses tell me the moe is this way." The two shippers hurried off down the hallway not occupied by Canada and America. Japan's ninja-senses have been a little rusty since the end of the Warring States Era.

Canada closed his eyes and sighed in relief. When he opened them again, America's face was inches from his own.

"Dude," America said seriously. "Are you alright?"

Canada shrunk further into the wall. "W-w-why wouldn't I-I be?" he shuttered. He glanced nervously at the gloved hands stationed close to either side of his head.

An uncharacteristic frown creased America's face. "You can tell me, Canada. We're brothers, that's what we're for, right?"

Now Canada was terribly confused. Since when did America say 'Canada' instead of 'Canadia' and 'brothers' instead of 'bros'?

America leaned in closer and whispered, "He didn't... you know... rape you, did he?"

Oh. That's what this was about.

Canada fought back a snicker. "No, America, nobody raped me. Whatever gave you that idea?" The northern nation easily lifted one of the confining arms and continued down the hallway.

America trotted to keep up. "Aw, man, you might be almost as heroic as me!" He exclaimed with mixed admiration and relief. "Just think, you survived the Frog's rape closet! What a bro!"

Yup, he was back to normal. "Papa wouldn't do that to me," Canada assured him. He was sure France wouldn't do that to him; as for anyone else's safety...

"Oh, I was more worried about that beer-chugging albino dude," America clarified.

Canada almost choked. "What?! Prussia? I thought he was with Miss Hungary?"

"You are so behind the times, my man!" America laughed. "She's married to that Austrian prick!"

"No way. How long?"

"For, like, ever," America rolled his eyes.

Canada was shocked. "But, but, but the Internet..."

America gave a hearty guffaw. "Dude, you watch hentai?"

"I didn't say that!" insisted the blushing Canadian.

"Whatever, man," America smiled knowingly.

A moment of silence lapsed for Canada's dignity. Then something occurred to him.

"Hey," Canada said slowly. "How did you know about the closet? Have you been following me?!" He shot America an accusing look.

America threw up his hands in mock defense. "Chill! I've been trying to get your attention since I saw you walk out of there! I thought you were ignoring me because you were embarrassed about what happened in there or something." He made a pout face. "No one saw me in the second half of the meeting, either." He brightened suddenly. "But you can see me now!"

"Oh no," Canada whispered.

"No, it's cool bro. I accept chocolate apologies, Big Macs-"

Canada wasn't listening anymore. He ran down the hall that Japan and Hungary had come from. The potion was wearing off and he had to be visible to accomplish his task. There wasn't enough time to take another dose, he had left most of his belongings in the closet to make room in his man-purse.

"What's the rush?" America called from behind, quickly picking up his own pace.

"Go away!" Canada told him.

"No can do, my man," America said, rubbing his hands together evilly. "If something's up, I want in."

"Fine." Canada stopped abruptly and reached into his man-purse. "Take these," he bestowed an armful of brightly colored packages in America's hands. "and set them up near the conference room. Wait for my signal."

"You got it, Canadia!" America saluted, promptly dropping half the packages. "Count on me, I'm the hero!"

Canada rolled his eyes. "Alright. Just don't get too scared."

"Scared? Me? Do you even know who I am?" America laughed, but with a slightly nervous edge. Canada didn't want to argue. They were on a time constraint; everything had to be set before the nations gathered for the next meeting. He rushed down the hall, barely hearing America call out a last round of questions. "Bro! What's the signal? A moose noise? What does that sound like? I wouldn't know cuz you STOLE ALL MY MOOSE."

"They migrated by free will because of YOUR GLOBAL WARMING," Canada shot back. He was too far away to hear America's response.

**There's a reply URL for reviews. Wot.**

**I'm new here.**

**Your comments on France made me laugh so hard. Life should not be this funny. But I'm glad it is.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Here's the last update of 2012! Happy new year, everyone!**

Canada smirked. Everything was in place as the first nations were arriving. Canada himself was hiding behind the lush Italian curtains of the meeting room.

_It's peculiar_, he thought, _to have to put effort into not being seen._

At least he had a nice view while he waited. The extravagant bay windows gazed down on the building's front steps. Across the street was a courtyard with shining statues of Italians throughout history.

Framing the grassy area were shops and restaurants. People in stylish coats and scarves strolled about on their winter-y errands. One couple caught Canada's attention. A gust of icy wind snatched a hat off the shorter one's head. The taller one, who was wearing a ridiculous pair of ear muffs, ran after the hat, flailing wildly.

_No way_, Canada thought as he squinted at the tall man, _Is that Spain?_ He looked back at his shorter companion. _It must be, because that is definitely Romano._

The shorter man put his hands in his pockets grumpily. Romano always wore hats in the winter to keep his one rebellious curl warm. He was currently yelling at Spain. Whether it was to hurry up and retrieve the hat or to stop bothering over something so insignificant was impossible to tell. Romano always was sort of a wild card.

Spain finally caught the hat and waved it triumphantly over his head. When he turned to Romano's side he was head butted, but allowed a hug shortly after.

Canada smiled affectionately. _It'd be nice to have someone to walk around with like that. _Memories of coffee in the park resurfaced from that morning. A few butterflies that had survived the chill fluttered in Canada's stomach.

Eventually Germany cleared his throat and called the meeting to order. Show time. Canada let out a scarily accurate moose call.

By pulling a cord, Canada drew all the curtains closed with an eerie flutter. The lights flickered off. Many nations made sounds of alarm. Italy was already in full-scale freak out mode.

Next, an arsenal of fire crackers went off, curtesy of America. Canada lit a fuse by his feet. The fuse quickly skirted around the room's perimeter, setting off concealed sparklers. A miniature fog machine, which Canada had set on a timer and taped to the underside of the table, began to spew smoke. The sparklers had a satisfyingly spooky affect on the fog.

"Vat's going on?!"

"Kolkolkol, what fun."

"This isn't funny, aru!"

"I'm sorry for dabbling in black magic, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

_Now for the finale_, Canada gulped. With a powerful, practiced motion, he swept the curtain out of his way and leaped over Japan's right shoulder and onto the table. His black cape fluttered around him. He straightened and flung out his arms.

"BOO!" He shouted. It was the best he could come up with. Judging by the volume of the screams, it was sufficient.

America clicked the lights back on, howling with laughter. France and Prussia were also in stitches. Spain looked quite smug with a trembling Romano clinging to his arm. Canada smiled and jumped lightly off the table.

"Dude!" America ran over and gave him a congratulatory slap on the back. "That was awesome!"

"Thanks, America," Canada whispered.

"No, really," America said. "I could kiss you that was so-"

"VAT IZ DA MEANING UF DIS."

Both blonde nations turned around slowly with wide, terrified eyes. Germany, with an Italian death-gripping his left boot, stood towering over them.

"RUN!" America grabbed Canada's hand and pulled him out the meeting room door. Canada's adrenaline kept him from stumbling as the two nations fled faster than a toboggan on an iced slope.


	9. Chapter 9

"Wa-HOO!" America yelled as he hurtled down the hallway with Canada in tow.

"America! This is no time to be enjoying yourself!" reminded Canada, careening comically around a corner after the laughing nation. His point was emphasized by the angered ranting of a certain German in close pursuit.

"I vill personally instill the deepest regret into both of you that you were ever born!" Germany threatened convincingly. "No one disrupts my [Italy's] meetings."

"Germany! Germany!" Italy whined, still attached to Germany's leg from the fright of the last chapter. "Stop stomping! It hurts and it's-a really scary-!"

"Let go if it hurts!" Germany snapped. "It's not that hard!"

America chuckled. "Oh yeah, imminent peril." He stuck out his tongue at his northern brother. Canada glared back at him.

Behind them, Italy produced a white flag (seemingly from nowhere) and began waving it frantically. Germany averted his gaze from the North Americans to not-so-calmly explain to Italy that one does NOT surrender unless one is on the defensive. Chasing someone is NOT a symptom of defending. His explanation ended abruptly when he ran into a wall.

"Now's our chance, bro!" America yelled in triumph. He dashed around two more corners with lightning speed and threw open a random door. He pushed Canada ruffly inside before diving in himself.

"Ouch! America...!" Canada yelped. He had hit the back wall at an awkward angle. A gloved hand covered his mouth and he could see America put a finger to his lips to shush him further.

"Germany! I think they went that way, ve-!" Italy's voice was muffled through the sturdy door.

"If you say so..." Germany mumbled in response. His pride still hurt from his encounter with the wall. The twin footfalls faded as the two of them passed by.

America let out the breath he'd been holding and released his grip on Canada. "That was a close one, huh?" He said with a stupid grin.

Canada nodded meekly, his face a bit warm. From running. Not blushing. Definitely not blushing.

"Dude, that was, like, the best thing ever," America admitted wholeheartedly. "You are so cool, for realz!"

"Maple?!"

"Oh yeah," America continued. "The way you were sort of half-visible when you jumped on the table, I almost believed you really were a ghost or something! Ah ha ha!"

"Thanks, America," Canada smiled. In his head he congratulated himself on his perfect timing with the potion. It must have started to wear off just when he needed it to. "And you set off those fire crackers perfectly! Even Yao was scared. I'm glad you offered to help me out."

America suddenly found the top right corner of the room very interesting. "No prob, bro," he said. He scratched the back of his head distractedly.

"So," Canada said after a beat of silence. "Do think it's safe to come out yet?"

"Huh?" America asked.

"Of the closet. Come out of the closet."

"About what?!" America said in alarm.

"No, not like that," Canada sighed. Was America forgetting to listen to him already? "Do you think we can leave the room yet?" His violet eyes were on America expectantly and one hand was already on the door handle.

"Oh, uh, we better hang tight a little longer," America decided. "And it's too big to be a closet, bro," he laughed weakly. "Very misleading.

"O-okay," Canada was a tad weirded out.

America twiddled his thumbs for a moment and then turned back to Canada. "Hey," he started.

"Yeah?" Canada whispered.

"I was wondering," America said slowly. "how you deal with the whole invisible thing, like, on a normal basis."

Canada smirked. England's potion really was doing the trick. "Oh, it's no problem," Canada lied with a twirl of his wavy hair. "It hurt at first, people I'd see everyday wouldn't remember my name, people like Cuba mistake me for you and beat me up, Papa gave me up to England when I was little-"

"Whoa, what?!" America was giving him his full attention now. "I didn't know that!"

"Why do you think I came to live at your house?" Canada questioned.

America looked at the ceiling, quite embarrassed. "I thought you wanted to live with a hero, like me," he said, trailing off.

"That is so conceited, America."

"Is not!" America protested.

Canada rolled his eyes. "Do you know any basic world history?"

"Yeah, of corse I do!" America retorted, crossing his arms defiantly. "Lots!"

"World history as in not just American?" Canada countered.

"Um," America paused.

"Whatever, it doesn't matter," Canada's hand was back on the door handle, turning it to leave. Suddenly the atmosphere in the smallish room shifted.

"Your birthday is July 1st," America said quietly, eyes cast on the floor. Canada froze. "Your motto is 'From sea to sea' and glasses were invented in your country." He looked up, his voice getting stronger. "You speak fluent English and French and don't mind the cold. You have the third largest supply of fresh water in the world."

Canada didn't know what to say. Did anyone pay attention to him enough to know that much?

"You like to camp on the weekends and eat home cooked food. You don't bother with your appearance because you think no one cares, but-" America swallowed hard. "you don't really need to."

Canada's arms fell limply to his sides. Did America just... tell him he was- no... what?

Strong hands were placed on Canada's shoulders. "I may not know a lot about the world," America said in conclusion. "but I care a lot about you."

The taller nation leaned in slightly and pecked the other lightly on the lips. Canada gasped softly. America drew back a step and dropped his hands. Canada remained with his back pressed against the door, brain working in over drive to process what had just happened.

America's face was suddenly very red. "I-I'm sor- I shouldn't have- Please don't hate me!" When Canada made no immediate reply, America dashed to a side door and fled into the adjoining room.

Canada let his knees give out and slowly sank to the floor. Had his plan for revenge worked a little... too well? He touched a finger thoughtfully to his lips where America's kiss lingered.

Was America... in love with him?


	10. Chapter 10

England was surprised to say the least. He hadn't expected to see America at the bar. Really, he hadn't expected to see America at all, with Canada stealing his visibility and such. Yet here he was, trudging blindly to the counter and putting forth a great amount of effort to heave himself onto a stool. He looked absolutely exhausted.

"Bloody hell, America," England greeted him. "What happened to you?"

"Hey England," America mumbled. He signaled the bar tender for a drink, he didn't really care which one. They were all in Italian, and that was Greek to him.

"Answer my question," England insisted, sipping his own beverage.

"Lay off, old man," America told him weakly.

He may not have been the best father, especially near the end, but England knew about affairs of the heart. Well, for all the hearts that weren't his own. Or France's. That one was still confusing as hell.

"Are you in a lover's spat?" England asked, nudging America's arm.

"No!" America replied quickly. He was already embarrassed. "Well, we're not lovers... He probably hates me now."

England's eyes widened. "Pre-relationship drama? Who is it, pray tell?"

America fumbled with his glasses, feeling a little flustered. He had come here to get _away_ from his troubles. "He's the one I told you about before," America admitted.

England blinked. "You've never mentioned anyone."

"At Mickey D's, don't you remember?" America smiled a little. "You really are going senile!"

"I am not!" England protested. "Though now that you say that, I remember I _was_ trying to sell you a love charm of some kind. Never bought it, in the end. Give a bloke a hint?"

"He's ah, um," America tugged on his collar and coughed awkwardly. "A diamond in the ruff, I guess you could say."

"Aladdin's not real, America."

"Shut up! Neither is The Doctor!"

"Enough of that," England cut him off. He didn't want to get into a battle of the pop cultures. "Is he a nation?"

America nodded.

"Good," England approved. "Getting romantically involved with humans never ends well. Professionally is key."

America rolled his eyes, downing the rest of his drink and signaling for a refill.

"He's... kind of the complete opposite of me," America admitted. His lips turned up at the corners, thinking of his secret crush.

"It's Canada, isn't it."

"Holy hamburger patties!" America flinched so hard he almost fell to the floor. "How did you know?"

"America," England sighed, running a hand through his spiky blonde hair. "Don't patronize me. I know my colonies."

"Know your colonies my-"

"Oi!" England glared. "Don't make me take away your BBC America."

"Hrmf."

"So," England continued, all business-like. "What did you do to upset him?"

"I-" America looked up at the ceiling like it was a cheat sheet on a calculus test. "I told him."

"Told him what?" England was acting thick to make him say it.

"How I feel about him," America said grudgingly and finished his glass.

England whistled. "And how did he take it?"

America slumped down on the table.

"That bad, huh?" England assessed.

"Well," America said with half his face being squashed by the table top, "it's more like he didn't react at all. I kinda, um, I sort of..."

"Out with it, you git."

"I kissed him." America hid his face with his hands.

England slammed his both his hands down on the counter, knocking over his glass. "Idiot! You have no idea how to treat a lady- I mean- Canada!" He accused, pointing a finger.

"Dude, not so loud!" America sat up and made frantic motions with his hands to try to get the Briton to calm down.

"I will not!" England said defiantly. He tripped backwards over the bar stool. Was he really this tipsy already? Luckily America caught him.

"Unhand me, you wanker!" England flailed until he somehow managed to stand on his own. He stumbled toward the doors, turning back to give America a last piece of advice.

"Give Canada some space," he called back. "When he's ready to accept your feelings, he'll come to you."

America waved a hesitant goodbye. He also paid England's tab. That British dude forgot all sorts of important stuff when he was drunk.

**Shout out to all you bbc fans. I'm so Johnlocked right now I can't even.**

**Special thanks to SugarMapleWings99, JulietGivesUp, jackcay101, amoka22, forever.s130, carlyleclangclang-cortes and Epic Hero Laugh. Your reviews are like pop tarts. And that's good. Cuz I like pop tarts.**

**Thanks for your continued support, everyone!**


	11. Chapter 11

Feeling warm and fuzzy in his winter pjs, Canada sat thoughtfully on the bed in his hotel room. Remembering the brush of America's lips made him blush profusely. He flipped onto his tummy and buried his face in a pillow.

"Hey, you look familiar," said Kumajirou from the floor.

Canada looked up from his pillow and then down to the carpet. "I'm Canada."

Kuma nodded. Using the comforter to claw his way up onto the bed, he plunked down next to his human friend. A human friend who was silently overjoyed that his polar bear pet finally recognized him.

"You're all warm," observed Kumajirou, snuggling closer. "And your face is red."

Canada placed his glasses on the bed side table and switched off the light. Pulling the covers over both of them, he whispered, "That's what happens when you're in love."

"With who?" Kuma asked without changing expressions.

"It's a secret," Canada tapped the polar bear's tiny black nose.

"If it's me, I'll sic PETA on you," Kumajirou replied with a yawn.

"Pfft," Canada snickered. "Don't worry, he's a nation."

"Just as I thought," Kuma murmured. "That's so 50 states of gray."

"Kumajirou!" Even the polar bear knew?


	12. Chapter 12

**That last chapter was an example of what is commonly known as filler. I promise no chapter will ever be that short ever again. Probably.**

The nervous face of Canada reflected back at him from the surface of his watch. His hair was a mess and the buttons on his suit didn't line up; he must have skipped one in his frantic rush out the door. He was tempted to run to the meeting, but decided against it. He wasn't confident in his ability to balance properly so soon after waking up.

_Kumajirou, if you weren't so cute I'd never forgive you! _Canada swore with a vengeance. Only a country that's highest form of vandalism was writing 'have a nice day' on public property could muster that kind of spite.

Wanting to prolong his snuggle time with Canada, Kumajirou had chewed through the alarm clock wire. He didn't get shocked because he's a magic polar bear who knows how to do these things.

Almost stepping on his glasses whilst getting ready, Canada barely remembered to take a second portion of England's magic potion.

_Germany will personally kill me,_ Canada mourned. Being late to a meeting was a grievous offense.

The intimidating double doors of the meeting room came into view. He was almost half an hour late. With some luck, the countries were still squabbling and Canada could slip in unnoticed.

Opening the heavy doors as little as possible, Canada squeezed through the gap. The room was, thankfully, in a state of turmoil, but not in the same way as any meeting before.

The oval, donut of a table had been removed. Nations were standing anxiously, angrily, and haphazardly in clusters around the room. Germany stood in the center, yelling and directing nations to different clusters. Japan hopped from cluster to cluster with a clip board in hand. Italy was lost in the orderly confusion.

Canada snuck over to the nearest group. China, Greece, and France greeted him without attracting Germany's attention.

"What's going on?" Canada whispered.

"It's that dreadful team building activity," France explained.

China crossed his arms, causing his sleeves to flop about. "If all the noob nations would stop their frivolous bickering the rest of us wouldn't have to put up with this."

"For someone with such a youthful appearance, you really are an old man," France informed him. He returned his attention to Canada. "We are picking teams for a scavenger hunt."

"A scavenger hunt?" Canada asked.

"Germany's not very good at the whole 'fun' concept," France agreed.

"I think... it will... be very... enjoyable," Greece said sleepily.

"Anything can be fun with friends," Canada added. His experiences in the last 36 hours had taught him that much.

"That's just the thing, my little Canada," France sighed. "None of the groups we picked ourselves were good enough for him, so Germany made all these rules to mix us up more. I wanted to go exploring with mon angleterre..."

Canada gulped. "Is it alright for me to be with you guys?"

"I'm afraid not, cher," France said. "You were my colony, and family members aren't allowed on the same team."

"Oh." Canada looked disappointed.

In the next group over, Germany was enforcing some of his rules. Miss Hungary was clutching the arm of Austria defiantly, refusing to be moved onto another team.

"As I said," Germany continued on his rant. "No family or bordering countries on the same team! You two violate both these regulations! One uf you vill have to leave!"

"I will not!" Hungary declared. She now had one arm linked with Austria and both fists gripping her frying pan. She held it above her head threateningly.

Japan set his clip board aside and tried to calm her down. "Please, Hungary-san, it will only be for the day," he consoled her. "Besides, think of all the crack ships that could come out of this."

Hungary's hands loosened on her weapon. She pondered for a second, her eyes somewhat glazed over in awe of the fangirl possibilities.

"Let's make a deal," Japan continued, picking up his clip board again. "You choose the ship and I'll put you in that group."

Hungary nodded eagerly. She gave Austria a quick peck on the check and hurried after Japan.

"Crack ships?" Canada sputtered in confusion. "What is this, the Opium Wars?"

"Are you mocking my country?" China shouted.

**Any requests on who should be in Canada's group?**


	13. Chapter 13

**Sorry it's been so long since the last update! It's finals week and I've been (trying) to study.**

**Thanks so much for the suggestions! They really helped and you're awesome. **

**In other news, I'm reading Homestuck for the first time.**

**On with the festivities!**

An aura eerie enough to unnerve Chuck Norris emanated from a corner of the meeting room. Most of the teams had already been okay-ed by Japan and were anxious to start the activity so they could escape the atmosphere of dread.

"It's almost... tangible," whispered Canada, who had yet to find a group. As soon as he had spoken, an icy gust of wind blew past him from the direction of the miasma. Were those... snowflakes? Inside?

Being a northern country, the occasional flurry didn't faze him. Tall girls with knives, however, did just that.

"Let's be a team, Big Brother," Belarus advanced on Russia. The largest nation in the world was smiling, but instead of the gleeful smile he usually wore when he watched everyone fighting, this was one of panic.

Russia's eyes were fixed on the gleaming knife that Belarus always carried with her. She brandished it threateningly toward anyone who looked like they were about to interfere.

"I think we should respect Mr. Germany, da?" Russia proposed as lightly as possible, backing away as he did so. "Let's make other friends-"

"Nyet," Belarus refused. "Big brother is the only one for me."

"Russia's right," Germany edged uncomfortably into the fray, making sure to keep well out of Belarus' safety circle. "You must be on different teams. One of you be with Canada."

Russia jumped at the opportunity. "Ja!" he cried out with tears of joy. "Canada and I will become one."

Belarus looked absolutely murderous.

The faint outline of America appeared. "No way! I'm with Canada!" His voice was so tiny that only Canada heard him.

"America," Canada whispered. "We're bordering countries and brothers, you can't."

"Better me than that commie bastard!" America yelled.

"What's that?" Russia said, becoming more relaxed the farther he got from his younger sister. "I thought I heard a weak breeze."

"Weak? WEAK?!" America stomped up to the intimidating Russian. "Who won the space race? Huh? 'Murica, that's who!"

"Is that you, America?" Russia asked innocently. "I couldn't hear you over my superior education system."

"That's enough!" Germany yelled. "America! You're part of Belarus' team now. Get over there so we can start! Mien Gott."

Japan ushered Canada and Russia over to Romano and Liechtenstein. He then politely introduced everyone to Canada, since for many this was their first time being able to see him. Besides the pranking incident, that is.

Liechtenstein curtsied shyly. "Nice to meet you," she said with an adorable accent.

Romano gave a curt nod and went back to looking peeved.

"Oh, Canada!" Russia finally recognized him. "You're the very comfortable chair, aren't you? Not as comfy as Busby's chair, though."

Canada was mildly offended. Busby's chair was quite rickety.

"Here is your first clue," Japan handed Canada an envelope. "You may open it as soon as Germany-san opens the double doors. There are three objects you need to find. Take a picture once you find the first one and send it to me. If you are right, I will send you the next clue. The first team to correctly identify all the objects wins. Good luck." He bowed and excused himself.

Liechtenstein's eyes were gleaming with childish excitement. "Could I read the first clue, Mr. Canada?" she asked. "If you don't mind, that is. I wouldn't want to be rude..." She cast her eyes to the ground and fidgeted with her dress.

"That's perfectly alright," Canada assured her with a smile. He handed her the envelope, which she accepted gleefully.

Canada glanced over to where America stood with his group. Switzerland was yelling at Belarus to stay damn clear of him. Belarus showed no interest in Switzerland, choosing instead to stare creepily over at Russia. America at first tried to joke around with his group members, but quickly gave up since no one could see him. Cuba was looking strangely at America, as if determining whether or not he was Canada.

Germany, seeing that all was mostly in order, marched over to the doubled doors and boldly opened them. There was a sound like the frenzied munching of caterpillars as envelopes were hastily opened.

"Saisho no tegakari (First clue)," read Liechtenstein hesitantly. "I'm commonly found under the ground/I'm no player but I sure get around."

Liechtenstein looked up with a puzzled expression. "What's a player?"

**I know next to nothing about Hong Kong and Korea, otherwise they would have made an appearance. All I know about Korea is that he claims peoples' breasts...?**


	14. Chapter 14

**I apologize to the anon reader who thought France was a rapist. It was not my intention to portray him that way. I ship romantic!FrUk so very much.**

**Advanced warning for Romano's language. He's grumpy cuz he can't be with Spain or N. Italy. What a cutie.  
-**

"Underground but gets around, eh?" Canada pondered, ignoring Liechtenstein's question.

"I know," Russia offered helpfully. "It's an earthworm."

"Where the hell would we find an earthworm in the dead of winter?" Romano shot down Russia's idea. Russia's returning smile was one that suggested winter wouldn't be the only thing dead this season.

"R-right, let's think of s-something else," Canada continued warily.

Liechtenstein tugged on Canada's sleeve. "In Brother's country, there's a big train that goes under a mountain. Could it be that?"

"The Gotthard Base Tunnel? That's a little far to go for a scavenger hunt," Canada smiled apologetically. "Still..." he turned to Romano. "What kind of public transportation do you have around here?"

"How should I know? Bastard," Romano crossed his arms.

Russia's lead pipe emerged from his heavy cloak. "Let's be cooperative, da?" his smile could have frightened the Joker, not to mention the way he toyed with the pipe in his hands.

Romano gulped. He had a vicious bark, but he was still an Italian. "There's a tourist bus stop and a metro station not more than a block from here," he said.

"Perfect!" Canada exclaimed quietly. Russia put away his pipe and the four exited the meeting room, led by a skipping Liechtenstein.

As the teams dispersed, an air of competition set in. Once they got outside, an air of ohgodit'scold replaced it. Liechtenstein and Romano were more susceptible to the chill than the other two nations, who were part of the arctic circle. Russia offered Liechtenstein some vodka to warm her up, but Canada deemed that inappropriate, even if she technically was over the drinking age.

"It's not about morals as much as what Switzerland would do to us," Canada explained. Russia took a swig for himself and put the bottle away.

"Where yah off to?" A previously unnoticed follower asked.

"America!" Canada flailed a bit. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"You be tripping, I've been here forever," America fell into step with the group.

"Spy," Russia muttered under his breath.

"I heard that," America stuck out his tongue childishly.

Even though Canada didn't want America to go, he couldn't say he wanted him there either. "Shouldn't you be getting back to your group?" he suggested.

"Nah," America shrugged.

"You'll set a bad example," Canada told him. "Belarus might come over to find her sibling, too-"

"You should go," said Russia immediately.

America pointed an accusing finger at Russia. "You just want to monopolize by bro!"

Russia didn't flinch. "Maybe if you weren't so obsessed with burgers you'd see that he doesn't want you here, da?"

"It's weird for you to disrespect burgers, Mr. Largest Country," America shot back.

"That's not what the obesity rates say," Russia reminded him.

"That's what health care is for!"

"Shut _up_, America!" Canada snapped. The bickering nations looked at him in surprise. "This is suppose to _get rid_ of the fighting! Disrespecting the rules and my teammates is very immature of you. Go back to your team and play the goddamn game!"

There was a moment of stillness; everyone held their breath at the outburst of the usually soft-spoken nation. America blinked in surprise. "If... if that's how you feel..." He staggered away a few paces. He looked absolutely lost.

Romano rolled his eyes. "What the hell is with this drama?"

America recovered quickly. "I'm going to beat your team so hard!" he proclaimed. "My whole team will! Just wait, I don't need you and your brand new benz, or you bouchée friends!" With that, he took off down the street, back to the three mismatched nations who hadn't missed him at all.

Canada was flustered. "Did he just... quote Ke$ha at me?"

Romano grinned. "Or tried to, at least."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure a bouchée is a pastry," Canada agreed. "Props for using French, though."

**Can I just say that auto suggest is the best invention of mankind? It spells Liechtenstein for me!**


	15. Chapter 15

Romano's phone made a synthesized shutter sound as Russia, Liechtenstein, and Canada posed for a photo in front of a subway car.

"I don't understand why we had to pay the fare to a take a fucking picture," Romano grumbled.

"Let me see," demanded Russia kindly. He plucked the flip-phone from the Italian's hands and studied the grainy image. "Ah, I will be Instagraming this so hard, da?"

Romano snatched back his prehistoric cellular device. "You scare me so fricking much," he said.

"I know," Russia replied.

Romano gulped and sent the picture to Japan, adding a lengthy message about how pissed he was at spending 3.70€ ($5) for the damn thing. In reality it had been 3.70€ between the four of them, not an extraneous amount in the least, but it was the principle of the thing, goddammit.

Japan replied almost instantly. He laid out a sincere apology for the unexpected expense and offered compensation in the form of takoyaki or hot pot. Most importantly, he congratulated them on their correct guess and delivered the second clue.

"Dai...ni no te- tega-" Romano squinted at the Japanese text. "How the hell am I supposed to read this?! Second Clue! Use English from the start, asshole."

"What does it say?" Canada prompted.

"I'm getting to that," Romano muttered. He read, "Although louder than a thunderclap/You won't find this anywhere on the map."

"Thunder isn't on the map," Liechtenstein pointed out.

Romano nodded in agreement. "What a janky clue."

"Maybe the clap is important," Canada suggested.

"Like applause, maybe?" Liechtenstein thought out loud.

"Thunderous applause somewhere that can't be found," Russia pondered. He addressed Romano, "Are there any hipster theaters close by?"

"What the hell is a hipster theater?!" Roman looked honestly offended. "The closest thing we have to that is an art gallery, and that's not the same thing at all!"

"Oh well," Russia shrugged. "It was worth the try, da?"

"Why am I on a team with such losers?" Romano grumbled, crossing his arms indignantly.

Losers? Canada thought. He immediately assumed he was at fault and was about to apologize when Spain came up behind him and slung an arm around his shoulder. The Canadian lurched forward, righting himself in time to prevent an embarrassing fall.

"Hola," Spain greeted them with a warm smile. "I don't suppose the first answer is near here, is it?"

Romano ducked his chin into his scarf like a turtle, but was unable to hide his red face. "Don't follow us around just because you can't think for yourself, idiot!"

"Aw, there's no need to be unfriendly, tamate," Spain stuck out his lower lip in a pout, the gleeful smile still present in his eyes. "France and his team got penalized for something or other, so I thought I'd come visit you! It has nothing to do with Japan mentioning you were one of the leading teams."

"Competitive bastard! No one said anything about that!" Romano shot back.

"Is that so...?" Spain scratched his chin and gazed at the ceiling. Canada took this as an opportunity to duck under his arm and escape to where Liechtenstein stood.

"Anyway," Romano continued. "Why not go fool around with that albino bastard? Don't bother us!"

"Prussia? He's not a country anymore, so he's not playing," Spain explained. "And I would rathe see yooooou!"

Romano head-butted him before Spain could glomp him.

"That's too bad that Mr. Prussia won't get to have fun with us," Liechtenstein said.

Canada snapped his fingers. "That's it!" he whispered. "Prussia's no longer on the map and he's unbelievably loud!"

Russia turned to Spain. "You should leave now, you already know too much."

Spain, still in pain from Romano's 'display of affection' and now quite pale, took the hint and ran off to rejoin his group.

"Much better," Russia purred.

"Right," Canada got a determined look in his eye. Living with America since his colonial days had made him rather competitive and hearing that they were ahead only gave him more motivation. "Where would we find Prussia?"

"Do I really have to guide you around everywhere?!" Romano asked.

**Sorry for taking so long (what, two weeks?) for this skimpy update. Plot is tough! For those concerned about that lack of moe as of late, don't worry, the dosage of AmeCan is on the rise.**


	16. Chapter 16

In Canada, there is snow. One might even say there is a _lot_ of snow. However, Canada is a modest country and would never admit to such a thing.

The large quantities of the stuff, not to mention the diversity of it, came with some knowledge: the kind of shovel to use, the stickiness level for snowman construction, the depth it took to cancel school and work. If one thing was certain, Canada knew not to jump out of a plane without a parachute, no mater how much snow was on the ground.

This lifetime of experience aided Canada's observation that the the spikes of white hair peaking over the top of a bush were not snow. The decorative layer of cold on the surrounding bush seemed a bit peeved at the presence of the imposter. It fell off the branches when the spiky snow sneezed. Real snow would not have sneezed. Real snow would not have a tiny, yellow bird nestled in it.

Canada nudged Russia with his elbow conspiratorially. Russia peered back at him with a question in his eye. A slight gesture to the suspicious bush was returned with a nod of understanding.

The lead pipe concealed in Russia's coat clattered to the pavement. The frigid air amplified the sound. Romano squeaked and Liechtenstein jumped. It was an excellent distraction.

Canada snuck around behind the bush while the attention of both the bird and the albino was on Russia. It was usually a good idea to watch out for Russia, so the distraction worked perfectly. With his phone at the ready, Canada yelled as loud as wouldn't be disruptive.

"Prussia!"

The hiding nation spun at the sound and was immediately trapped in the frame of the Canadian's camera phone.

"Zey haff found me!" he exclaimed over the frantic cheeping of his bird. The awesome Prussia leapt up and made a break for it.

"Why are you running?!" Canada called after him. "We already got your picture!"

Zat is vat dis iz about? Prussia mouthed to Gilbird. The marshmallow peep-like creature shrugged.

"It's for the scavenger hunt," Russia was suddenly shoulder-to-shoulder with Prussia. "Lots of fun with everyone, da?"

"Ja, ja..." agreed Prussia, backing away from the intimidating nation. He cleared his throat and returned to his usual 'tone of awesome'. "Guess vat, losers? Aren't you forgetting somzing?" Everyone looked at each other.

"I don't think so," said Canada slowly.

Liechtenstein fiddled with the hem of her skirt. She looked quite guilty.

Romano eyed her warily. "If you've got something to say, spit it out."

"Well, ah," Liechtenstein quavered. Prussia tried taking cautious steps away while she spoke, but he backed into Russia's broad chest. When did he get there?! Prussia shivered.

"Japan said," Liechtenstein said, seeming to get smaller with each word, "he said that at least two of us have to be in each picture along with the answer. It was in the instructions the first clue came with, but I forgot to tell you...!"

"So we need another picture," Romano summed it up. "Whatever shall we do." He exaggerated an eye roll, earning a timid giggle from Liechtenstein with his sarcasm.

"No vey you're getting it!" Prussia exclaimed. He looked slightly relieved that there was, in fact, something they had forgotten. He still didn't really know what was going on, but he figured he could work all the attention to his advantage.

"People haff been valking out uf dat subway thing and running up to me waving cameras in my face for, like, ten minutes. It's crazy!" Prussia threw his hands in the air for emphasis. "I understand anyone vanting an awesome photo of awesome me, but I'm not public property you know!

"So the deal is dis: either catch me long enough to take your stupid picture or do what I say und I _let_ you take stupid picture," Prussia bargained.

"I am liking the catching and restraining option," Russia said truthfully.

While Prussia's red eyes widened in fear, the rest of his face and his voice were still confident.

"You'll never catch me," he boasted. "I outran Italy before you found me."

If it was true, that was truly impressive.

**Thus ends "Prussia being difficult" part one.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Prussia being difficult part 2. Enjoy!**

"What's going on here?" asked Cuba's deep voice. America and the other members of his group were close behind.

"Prussia is being very difficult," Russia explained in the creepiest tone of voice possible. It's not easy to sound sane when one is considering the best way to tie someone up with a scarf.

"Really, we just want a picture," Romano scoffed.

"No way, Prussia's the second answer? That's so not what I was thinking!" America yelled in wonder.

Canada face palmed. At this rate they would need to revisit WWII propaganda to keep secrets from the other teams.

"You thought it was a hipster theater at first, da?" Russia grinned at America.

"Stop reading my mind, you commie bastard!" America protested. He muttered the word 'spy' under his breath, but he never was very skilled at being quiet.

"I wouldn't be so quick to accuse my brother if I were you, America..." Belarus began sharpening her knife and glaring. The purple miasma emanating from her was potent enough to make any brother proud.

"Yeah, listen to her, America," Cuba advised.

"Who's team are you on?!" America questioned both of them. Switzerland cringed at the word 'team'.

"What are your demands, Mr. Prussia?" Liechtenstein pestered with a tug to his sleeve.

A dangerous grin spanned Prussia's face. "I want a kiss from Canada!" He stood triumphantly in the dead silence that followed.

"W-what?!" Canada's violet eyes darted from Prussia to America and back several times. He wished that Kumajirou was here to hide behind.

"What do we pay for our group's picture?" Cuba asked with muscular arms crossed. How he managed to wear a Hawaiian shirt in the dead of winter was beyond anyone's understanding.

"I zuppose I'll need da same from one uf you," Prussia said dismissively.

"I volunteer as tribute," America raised his hand solemnly.

"America!" Canada gasped. Everyone else was shocked as well.

Prussia blinked in surprise and coughed awkwardly. He had dug himself into this, hadn't he? However, being twins, they both looked like Canada, so it wasn't a complete loss.

"You better be paying attention," America told Prussia, striding over the him and Canada. "Cuz I'm only doing this once."

"Vy vouldn't I-" Prussia stopped abruptly when America put a hand on either side of Canada's face and kissed him instead of Prussia. The awesome nation's jaw dropped.

Canada made a muffled sound of surprise. This kiss was more forceful, more showy than America's first. Canada kind of... liked it. He placed his hands hesitantly on the front of America's jacket and kissed back.

It was only when America stepped away that Canada noticed the shutter sounds and Prussia's incoherent stutters of disbelief. America was absolutely delighted.

"There's your kiss from Canada and myself," America announced. "The heroic North America bros save the day, for realz y'all!" Canada didn't know if he should be embarrassed or... Yep, definitely embarrassed.

Prussia put up no resistance when everyone crowded around him for a group photo. Liechtenstein asked a passerby to take the picture. The lady happily complied, accepting Belarus' phone as well. It turned out really nice; the world meeting building was in the background and Canada got to be in the center, clearly visible for the first time.

**Even though all the countries bicker a lot, I feel like they are actually close friends. So when they threaten or yell at each other, it's just their way of showing love. I think.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Congratulations to Aya-of-the-night for being the 69th follower of this story. Congratz also to azumesta for giving the 69th review. And yes, I have the maturity level of a 12-year-old. I hope that's not a bad thing. ( T_T)＼****(^-^ )**

"Someone remind me what the hell we're doing?" Romano asked, and was quickly shushed.

Canada clutched England's bottle of potion to his chest. There was about half of it left. He hadn't taken any in a while, and his visibility was beginning to fade.

Craning his head uncertainly around the double doors to the meeting room, he spotted the three Axis nations stationed around the donut-shaped table. Germany had probably moved it back into its proper place by himself without any problem. Canada shuddered at the thought of the muscly man catching him for what he was about to do.

"Good luck, Mr. Canada," Liechtenstein whispered. She stumbled over his name as if she almost couldn't remember it, which disheartened Canada, but at least he knew his invisibility was working.

Canada communicated his thanks and determination to Liechtenstein and proceeded to casually enter the room. To get to Germany he would have to pass Italy and Japan. Italy wouldn't be a problem, he was occupied with some crayons and the back of the meeting schedule, but getting by Japan would be tricky. He was experienced in the ways of the ninja, after all.

Italy hummed as Canada walked silently behind him. He was glad that Italy had chosen a loud march and had no concept of personal volume. Perhaps his humming would cover Canada's footfalls...?

The other members of his scavenger hunt team, who were hiding in the hall, sent the picture text of the second clue to Japan. The cherry blossom-patterned flip phone on the table vibrated and played the theme from an anime. It wasn't Hetalia, so Canada couldn't decipher what it was.

Japan was distracted by the text, giving Canada the opportunity he needed. He scurried soundlessly to Germany's side.

The intimidating nation was seated at the head of the table with his back to the bay windows. A menacing stack of paperwork was being sorted with precision. By the uncharacteristic, barely noticeable smile shining on the Doitsu's face, Canada confirmed what he had assumed from his first world meeting: collating was Germany's hobby.

Not letting this discovery delay him from his mission, Canada leaned very carefully around the pile of paperwork until he could reach Germany's coffee. Why did it smell like dandelions? No matter, he uncorked the bottle and poured a dose of the potion into the steaming beverage.

_Now Prussia will be safe and out of sight,_ Canada congratulated himself. _And we'll have a shot at winning this competition!_

His inner rejoicing was premature, because the Canadian's shadow obstructed the light on Germany's precious papers. Their eyes met. Canada froze. Germany squinted and stood up slowly.

_He's seen me!_ Canada panicked. _Or as good as seen me. Oh maple, he's probably still mad about the initiation prank!_

"Is everything alright, Germany-san?" Japan asked. He hit 'send' and replaced his phone on the table.

"Ja, it's gutt," Germany assured him. He didn't sound very confident, though. He retrieved his glasses from next to his coffee cup, the break in eye contact allowing Canada a hasty retreat.

Germany reexamine where Canada had been with the aid of his glasses. He found nothing, and went back to his collating, muttering about how pasta made people crazy.

On the home stretch to the door, Canada caught sight of Italy's picture. It was of him! Even with childish crayons, Italy had perfectly captured the image of Canada tipping a mysterious bottle into a coffee mug. Italy turned and gave him a wink. Canada made the last faltering steps out the door, vowing to never underestimate the spacey Italian again.

**In case it's confusing, the potion steals visibility from the person closest to you, as in relatives. So far:**

**Canada&America -they are twins**

**Germany&Prussia -they are brothers**

**Flying Mint Bunny&Toni -they belong/are friends with England&America, who are the closest thing to brothers that England has**

**Thus ends the explanation. Thank you so much for reading this far!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Guys, the weirdest thing happened to me. I studied, then got a decent score on a test. What the fudge, right? So to celebrate, here's an update.**

The members of team Canada exchanged high fives. "That was great!" Liechtenstein exclaimed. She jumped up in down from excitement, her dress swirling around her.

"Good work, team," Canada agreed. The victory was satisfying, but like a Russian smile, left him slightly unnerved.

Russia put Canada's worries into words, "Is anybody felling the creepies?"

Liechtenstein stopped celebrating. "Yes, I do feel like there's someone watching us..."

Canada panicked, "It might be me, can you still see me? Don't freak out, it's just me...!"

"I can see you just fine," Liechtenstein assured him with a pat on the back. She couldn't reach his shoulder.

Canada breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't have much potion left, he needed to use the last dose carefully.

Liechtenstein smiled at him. She was such a kind girl. It made his heart hurt to think that she would have to forget about him soon.

"If it's not you," Russia pondered, "then who is making the creepies?"

The three countries looked around the halls. They had been making their way out of the conference building to put some distance between them and the scene of the crime. There weren't many places for someone to hide, there were no alcoves around the doorways and everything was brightly lit.

"Hold on," Russia said, tugging on the back of Canada's jacket. Canada in turn stopped Liechtenstein.

"What is it, Mr. Russia?" Liechtenstein asked.

"There are being three of us, da?" Russia whispered seriously.

The other nations nodded.

"Then why," Russia continued, "are there four shadows?"

Canada looked to the floor. There was, in fact, an extra shadow. It had its feet in the middle of the hallway, not connected to anything. It was casting itself.

Liechtenstein squeaked in alarm. The shadow began to advance on them, arms reaching along the floor and walls. Russia picked up Liechtenstein easily and began running, thick boots clomping down the hall. Canada was close behind.

Back in the conference room, a related but entirely different event was happening.

"Ve~ Germany," Italy said, handing the mug back. "I'd almost forgotten how much I like your special coffee. Grazi!" He wiped the excess liquid off his mouth with his sleeve.

"Ja," Germany replied. He, too, sipped at the coffee, doing his best not to think about indirect kisses.


	20. Chapter 20

It was the strangest thing. For a moment, and only one moment, goddamnit, he had felt like part of the team. They were congratulating each other and being peppy and other crapola that almost made Romano smile. But only for half a moment. He wasn't into that sappy stuff like Spain was.

Then something was different. The circle of four nations was suddenly a circle of three plus Romano. They weren't looking at him and it didn't seem like they could hear him either.

Why the hell were they running?! Had they been seen by the potato bastard? Romano didn't know, so he concentrated on keeping up. The closer he got, the faster they ran. There was definitely something wrong with those losers he called his teammates. And just when he was enjoying sixteen percent of a moment, too.

His pocket rang with a text mid-chase. Better let the idiotas get on with being idiotas if that's what they were going to do. Without him.

Romano sighed and flipped open his cell. The next clue from Japan. The rhyme made him grin. He knew exactly what the answer was.

**XxX**

"I think we have lost it, da?" Russia said, not nearly as out of breath as he should have been. Canada made note not to be on the receiving end of a Russian chase.

"We must have," Canada agreed. He felt rather winded and was relieved that the ...whatever it was had stopped its pursuit.

"The clue!" Liechtenstein exclaimed. She was already thinking ahead to more important matters. "We should have it by now."

The two other countries nodded in agreement. They looked around in the silence, waiting for the clue to appear. It didn't.

Canada slapped a hand to his face. "Romano!"

"Who?" asked the others.

"We have to go back," Canada insisted. He walked resolutely back the way they came.

"Do you have the crazy?" said Russia. "The thing is back there!"

"The thing," said Canada. "Is Romano. He's our teammate and he has the last clue!"

Team Canada minus Romano searched the hallways they had fled down, but could find no detached shadow. The chances of reuniting with him were slim.

"We could try to guess the clue," Liechtenstein suggested.

Without a better plan, they began to brainstorm.

"The first thing was a train," Canada recounted. "The second was Prussia. Is there any pattern there?"

"Does Prussia like the trains?" asked Russia.

"Not that I know of." Canada thought for a moment. "Maybe the pattern isn't in the answer but in the clues?"

"Or who sent them," Liechtenstein said, pounding one fist into her tiny palm. Her wide eyes had an idea in them.

"What do you mean?" Canada asked. "Of course the former Axis sent them. Japan specifically, I suppose. He seemed to be in charge of the texts."

"But Mr. Germany wouldn't let Mr. Japan do all the work," Liechtenstein explained. "He would want the game to be a team building exercise for everyone, and he wouldn't exclude his own team."

"Ah," Russia tapped his pipe to his chin thoughtfully. "So he would want each member to contribute. Three Axis, three clues." Liechtenstein nodded vigorously, proud that her idea was making sense.

"That's it!" Canada whispered. It seemed so simple now. "The train was Japan's clue. Prussia was Germany's. We guess what Italy chose and we win!" A round of high fives was had by all.

"Pasta," they said in unison.

**XxX**

**Happy Fourth! What better way to celebrate 'Murica than raising this story from the dead by the light of fireworks on the lake? Even if America himself didn't make an appearance. Details.**

**Being the land of freedom, I can update when I want. Due to the responsibility that goes with freedom, an impromptu hiatus of that length will not occur again. This story will have its conclusion, or my name isn't [censored].**

**Extra motivation: For here on out, if there is ever a span of two weeks without an update, I will write a 1K story of the pairing of anyone's choice. Just PM me/post a review telling me how lazy I am and the prompt/pairing.**

**Thank you for putting up with me!**


	21. Chapter 21

"Yo, Switzerland!" America yelled, clapping the shorter nation on the back. He was absolutely exuberant from his *cough* encounter with Canada, and his team mates had finally managed to get his to shut up about it. The excitement was still there, though, and it leaked into every word. "Got the next clue yet?"

"Just now, calm down," said Switzerland. He unlocked his smart phone, still glowing from Japan's text. He figured that they were tied for the lead with Liechtenstein's team. This was the final clue, so solving it before them would ensure their victory. Not the Switzerland was concerned with winning or losing. He just wanted to get this game over with.

"In this place luck isn't delivered in strokes/All are welcome, even those who are broke," he read off his phone.

"That makes sense to end the game in a specific place," Cuba said thoughtfully. "The Axis are probably waiting there to see who the winners are first hand."

"You're totally right!" America agreed. "It's like an ambush."

"It's nothing like an ambush!" Switzerland exclaimed. "Don't compare scavenger hunts to wars. It makes me uncomfortable!"

"Sorry man. It's like a surprise party," America corrected himself.

"Much better." Switzerland nodded.

"Where are we going?" Belarus asked, suddenly appearing over Switzerland's shoulder.

"No idea," America said proudly.

**XxX**

Italy had a strange sense of justice. Cheating was wrong, but having fun was always right. So when he spotted Canada doing something he obviously wasn't supposed to, he observed without sounding the alarm in case it was another prank. The last one had gotten him good, terrified him, and it sure would be nice to see someone else freak out this time.

It didn't seem like a prank, slipping something in someone's drink, but Italy knew Canada wouldn't do anything bad to Germany. If he did he'd have to face the wrath of a hellbent Italian. And if it wasn't that, it must have something to do with the game. Cheating made perfect sense.

As sacred guardian of the color crayons (that was his official title on this mission, Germany had said so), he had his original job of staying out of trouble completely under control. So, he promoted himself to team protector and investigated Germany's coffee. It didn't taste any different. Italy knew all about hidden drugs and poisons and things, Romano's mafia days had been very educational, and this wasn't any of them. Therefore, it was safe for Germany.

It must have something to do with the game, Italy repeated. And if Canada was counting of it affecting Germany, he hoped that his sampling of the coffee would shake things up even more.

**XxX**

Finally, the first clue was sent in. About bloody time, too.

"Has the second clue come in yet?" England asked Hungary.

"Oh! Yes," Hungary closed her documents app where her latest fanfic was blooming and checked her texts. "Although louder than a thunder clap/You won't find this anywhere on the map."

"Easy," Korea said immediately.

"As easy as the last one?" England challenged. "I told you it was the tube. Several times! I would know, they're practically my veins."

"If they're anyone's internal organs, which is a disgusting comparison, by the way, they would be mine. I invented them," Korea claimed.

England was fuming. He opened his mouth to correct him, but Hungary wisely interrupted. "Boys. Please. As much as I'm enjoying your sexual tension, research for my story can wait. Let's get on with the game."

"Sexual tension?!" England sputtered.

"I'm declaring today 'I don't give a damn if it's canon' day. You're participating," Hungary explained.

"I never-"

"You're participating," Hungary repeated, fingering the frying pan tied at her waist.

"Why did I leave my hobbit hole?" New Zealand asked the open air


End file.
